


The Deepest Scar

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, Sub Bill Weasley, Top Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Severus is the only one who can help Bill.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Bill Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37
Collections: Rare Pair Shorts - Summer Wishlist Event 2020





	The Deepest Scar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smirkingcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirkingcat/gifts).



> Written for Smirkingcat. The prompts include "there are marks on all of us," needs a place to stay, and D/s- dynamics. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for reading

Bill thought he would never see Severus Snape again. The war had been over for years, life had returned to normal for most people, but Snape had remained hidden. Rumour was Snape lived a hermit’s life in Cokeworth in an old house with no Floo. 

Bill didn’t know why he ventured to Cokeworth that last night. It wasn’t as if he _liked_ Snape. He remembered him as an old bat, as a small, snarling man who hated every plan the Order came up with. Bill had been shit at potions; Snape had never let him forget it. 

Something had gone wrong inside Bill. It was his scars. He was ugly now. He was disposable. He tried to love Fleur, but she deserved more. He couldn’t stop thinking about cock.

He struggled to control his temper. He struggled to focus. His scars itched constantly. They seemed to taunt him. They never let him forget how far he had fallen. 

When he knocked on Snape’s old Muggle door, dark clouds churning in the sky above, his cheek still stung from where Fleur had slapped him. He had deserved it. Once again, he had let his temper get the best of him. 

It took Snape a long time to open the door. His mouth dropped open when he saw who it was. “William Weasley?”

“I need help. Can I come in?”

Snape opened the door wider and stepped back, his black eyes not leaving Bill’s face.

Bill entered the shabby lounge. It was small, the furniture chipped and dented, and the one window was heavily curtained. Snape closed the door. He watched Bill with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Bill said. It was the truth, even though it sounded barmy. He and Snape weren’t _mates_.

For a long moment, Snape didn’t react. Then he stepped closer to touch the deepest of Bill’s scars.

“Your wife threw you out,” Snape murmured. 

“Yes.”

Snape grabbed his hands, bringing them up close to his face for inspection. “Your knuckles are swollen. Did you hit her?”

Bill yanked away. “No!” He turned away, hating himself. “I - I broke a plate, then punched a wall.”

“Why?”

“We had a row. She wanted us to attend a dinner party but I hate seeing people. She called me names, stupid names. I can understand her frustration. I have been so miserable since the war ended.”

“Will you go back to your wife tonight?”

“No,” Bill said, his voice catching. “I reckon it’s over between us.”

Snape nodded. “Come up to bed.”

They climbed groaning stairs to Snape’s dark bedroom. There was a bed and a wardrobe, and books, so many books. Bill turned to Snape, anticipation twisting his stomach.

“Remove your clothes.”

With trembling hands, Bill took off his robes; then his shirt and trousers. Snape raised an eyebrow, and Bill slipped off his underpants.

“Get on the bed, face up.”

Bill did what he was told. His body was already hardening. He felt a hot flush cover his chest and neck. 

Snape caressed each scar on his face. He whispered, “There are marks on all of us. Your marks are beautiful.”

Bill sucked in a shaky breath. 

“I will now tie up your arms and legs. Do you consent?” 

“Yes.” 

Snape didn’t use his wand. He produced rope from the wardrobe. His fingers were very cold as he bound him to the bed. 

Snape kissed Bill softly. He whispered, “Let go.” Then he took out the whip. 

Bill let the tears come.

*

In the morning, Bill woke up to sunshine. He staggered down to the kitchen and didn’t encounter Snape. A fry-up waited for him on the rickety table under a stasis charm. Bill was ravenous. He sat down with care, his thighs and arse still tender.

As he ate, he smiled and blushed, remembering last night. He never thought Snape - _Severus_ \- could be so sexy. 

Bill was washing up the few dishes when Severus walked through the back door. “My laboratory is in the garden,” Severus said. 

Bill struggled to make eye contact. He wasn’t used to being shy around lovers, but Severus had made him feel so many new things. 

Severus carded his fingers through Bill’s long red hair. “Submission looks good on you,” he murmured. 

“Oh?”

Severus kissed him deeply. They both tasted like coffee. Severus pressed a phial into Bill’s hand. “Drink this. It will help with the rage.”

Bill eyed the murky concoction. “What is it?”

“It’s a derivative of Wolfsbane. My own invention. Your body is still trying to fight the bit of lycanthropy Greyback left in you.”

Relief flooded Bill. “How can I ever repay you?”

“You can start by getting on your knees,” Severus said softly.

“Yes, sir.”


End file.
